Is Shiney the New Sexy? Oily George Thinks So!

Oily George’s latest erotic masterpiece has been described by crticis as a clear satire on the youth obsessed Western culture. “Hand Shandy III” will be available soon on DVD in wankvision.

Hello Oily

You are great and so sexy – how do you do it?

Shiney Sheena, Wisconsin

Heeelllooooo Sheena,

Kind of you to say so and thank you for the photo. Usually I have to ask/badger/beg my ladies to send their portraits but looking at you, my you are enthusiastic. And ambidextereous. A fact I am logging in the darkest recesses of my febrile mind.

How do I maintain my sexiness? Well as you can see from my profile, I model myself on close personal friend and fellow Oil Spill, George Hamilton.

The dear chap has taught me so much about how to slither through life. He was the inspiration that got me into the How-Do-They-Do-That market that I cater for. I doff my fedora to the slippery one

Oily

 

 

 

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Ginger Beauty (Alabama Edition) – With Oily George

Hello Oily,

I recently discovered that my skin care regime is a bit on the harsh side.  I have exfoliated so hard that my legs now end at my knees. This makes wearing my new Puma trainers tricky. Also my love life is suffering.

Any tips?

Larry Blister, Alabama

Oily Replies;

Sorry to hear of your difficulties Larry.

But being in Alabama I’d say that makes you quite the catch. Betcha got a purty liddle cousin ain’t ya? Just pluck that banjo and go see her. If she ain’t down for some lovin’ she should have some extra toes you can nick.

Well it’s a start.

Oily

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The Sunburn Diaries – Part 3 – Roy Orbison?

This is the third and final part of the Sunburn diaries. Every word written here is true. Part 1 and Part 2 can be found here and here!

Part 3

I once went out with a girl from Finland. Trainee javelin thrower. Sadly she chucked me.

So, in Greece doing a very passable impression of a snow globe. There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and there he stood. Bespectacled, bearded and wearing a duffel coat. It was 35 degrees Celsius.

“Hicky kovelainenen nokia hup hup heniekenb basta Lasse?” he asked. My javelin thrower dalliance stood me in good stead (Foreplay was a tad traumatic, what with her arm strength) as I recognised the Finnish language.

He held a can of tuna and began to twang the partially opened lid like a dolphin friendly juice harp.

“Twangly twang ikeloien pente arrikola?” He asked

“Mumbeerlenksi suomi arkande prestatyn,” I replied, hoping that telling him that I don’t like butter on bread rolls would suffice.

He smiled, raised the tin and twanged some more. The twang of his can became the signature tune of the holiday.

How Ma Fightback and I guffawed when we heard him in our vicinity! Although it was a different story when he was twanging his can at 3 in the morning outside our bedroom window.

Think of Deliverance’s duelling banjos and you will start to understand our concerns. Twanged canned tuna possesses a a sinister sound.

A Final Tip For Gingers In The Sun!

Always carry a fridge magnet of Roy Orbison with you.

When in sunny climes, look for a cave. A spot of troglodyte existence is always enjoyable and the cave is dark and cool.

The best caves, the ones with stalagmites and stalactites to watch during your stay, are normally occupied by hermits.

Often a broken heart has caused their hermityness. She done him wrong, upped and left with the milkman, baker, butcher or cobbler etc. The poor lad can’t cope and so naturally finds a cave to sit and mope in.

This is where the fridge magnet of THE BIG O comes in handy.

Place the magnet at the entrance to the cave. Then hum “Dum Dum Dum Dum Doo Wah”.

Hermit will have heard Orbison warble about the broken heart and he will be drawn to this sound. When at the entrance to the cave he will find the fridge magnet, pick it up and venerate it like an Orthodox Icon.

Then nip in, nab his perch in the cave and so have a Sun free holiday watching those naughty stalactites and stalagmites grow!

You will have to share the perch with a rather hirsute skinny bloke but at least you can perfect your Travelling Wilbury’s back catalogue.

But make sure you leave after two weeks. There is a danger that twelve or so years down the line the old Orbison Fridge Magnet Trick may be played on you.

“Alas,” said he to himself, “what kind of people have I come amongst? Are they cruel, savage, and uncivilized, or hospitable and humane? I seem to hear the voices of young women, and they sound like those of the nymphs that haunt mountain tops, or springs of rivers and meadows of green grass. At any rate I am among a race of men and women. Let me try if I cannot manage to get a look at them.”

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Ginger Beauty With Oily George!

Oily George’s latest erotic masterpiece has been described by crticis as a clear satire on the youth obsessed Western culture.  “Hand Shandy III” will be available soon. The perfect Easter gift.

Hope the following advice helps!

Hello Oily

You are great and so sexy – how do you do it?

Shiney Sheena, Wisconsin

Why heeelllooooo Sheena,

Kind of you to say so and thank you for the photo. Usually I have to ask/badger/beg my ladies to send their portraits but looking at you, my you are enthusiastic. And ambidextereous. A fact I am logging in the darkest recesses of my febrile mind.

How do I maintain my sexiness? Well as you can see from my profile, I model myself on close personal friend and fellow Texan Oil Spill, Michael Winner.

The dear chap has taught me so much about how to slither through life. He was the inspiration that got me into the How-Do-They-Do-That market that I cater for. I doff my fedora to the slotheful one

Oily

Hello Oily

There is a squeak on my wardrobe door. Every time I open the door my pet Budgie goes into a catatonic state.

I’ve tried a wide range of ungents, moisturisers and gels all to no avail.

Will you pop in and see me to use your abundant reservoirs of natural emulsifiers to quieten the darn door and give my Budgie the peace she craves and deserves?

Ariadne, Ullapool

Hello Ariadne

Lordy this is my lucky week! Such beautiful women all in need of my attentions! Of course I will slip by anytime to check on your wardrobe door. I will bring my vast array of elixirs and pungent purifying potions which will need to be applied on the hinges of your wardrobe doors, and locks. And your buttocks. That should do the trick. Whilst there maybe I can tell you about the new company I am setting up, Long and Hard Productions. Looking for a new PA and I feel you will fit the bill perfectly.

Oily

Ello Hoily,

Can you help? I am doing a crossword and I am stuck on 6 across.

The clue is “Things we chew our food with located in our mouths.” It has 5 letters and so far I have TE_TH – I am stumped. Any ideas?

Slow Dave, Hull

Dave,

The word I’m thinking of is tongue. It may not fit the crossword but I find it can fit just about anywhere else. Once you discover this fact for yourself your crossword will be totally redundant. Enjoy.

Oily

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Ginger Beauty Tips

Oily George - Here To Help

We are delighted to announce that Oily George, Gfb’s very own beauty expert has returned from filming in the US to answer some of your questions relating to health, beauty and personal grooming.

As  a leading light in the adult film industry of the United Kingdom, with such classics as “Market Gardener A Go Go” and “Onion Orgy IV” under his belt, Oily knows a thing or two about the importance of appearance and cooking vegetables to boot.

We hope you find his advice helpful.

1. Oily Caseload #1 – Hair Raising

Oily George – First it was hair loss so I bought a wig – now my nylon hair has developed split ends?

Any tips?

Nantucket Bob

Oily replies,

Not sure what the problem is with Split Enz. An excellent New Zealand band and ‘I Got You’ was a fantastabulous single. The lead singer Micky Finn went on to form another beat combo called Crowded House – interestingly he named this band after the tenement building he and his 8 brothers and sisters grew up in.

Perhaps knowing this, Nanty Bob, you will now open, or lower, your ears and listen. And enjoy those Split Enz

2. Oily Caseload #2 – Cellulite Blues

Please help me Oily George!

At first I thought cellulite was the lost tribe of Israel. Then my friend Amanda thought it was a low fat spread. She is kinda right as it has spread all over my thighs. I’ve tried lard, monkey innards and even laid a Barbara Taylor Bradford novel over the affected area – alas to no avail.

What can you suggest?

Sue, Melton Mowbray

Oily Replies

What you mean they aren’t a lost tribe of Israel?

In my line of business – ‘grown ups art’, cellulite is indeed a concern as I know that my discerning fans, as they sit peering at the screen, tissue in hand, do not wish to observe what looks like discarded orange  peels wriggling in ecstasy. Puts some people off their, eh, stroke, if you will. There is a surgery close to my home here in Silicon Valley which deals with this problem. I’ll send you the contact details. Meantime Sue perhaps you could send me a picture of your breasts lathered in baby oil? It’ll give the surgeons a better idea of which procedure best suits.

Lasciviously Yours

Oily

3.Oily Caseload #3 – Pump Up The Volume

Oh Oily! I am in a bind. Last night I applied hair volumiser to my pubic region by mistake. I woke up this morning with a crotch so bouffant that I can’t put my pants on. I have a big date with Natalie from accounts tonight, was hoping to take things to the next level – but what is she going to think when I drop me strides and the lead singer from Mungo Jerry pops into view?

Any ideas?

Worried Les

Oily Replies

When pondering these problems I like to slither into my bath, lay myself in Extra Industrial Castrol and, you know, let nature take it’s course. I do all my best , ahem, pondering in the bath.

I then retire to the drawing room donning my ‘Noel Coward Rocks My World’ silk dressing gown and matching slippers, sip a brandy and ponder further the problems that beset my poor readers.

I suggest you shave the offending pubes into the shape of something important and meaningful to Natalie, something that will make her realise she is with a man who has empathy and isn’t afraid to show his feminine side.

The following are some suggestions of the sort of shapes and images that most speak to the sweet little things;

A flower

A fluffy kitten playing with a ball of string

A 6 month old baby gurgling in a pram in a summer’s meadow with the sun blazing down.

An ironing board.

The girl in that tennis poster scratching her arse.

Cutting your mangy pubes into any of the above is an unbelievably romantic gesture and would win over the hardest of hearts and ensure you get your oats.

If it doesn’t then she’s obviously a lesbian. If that’s the case get your camcorder and follow her home…..I pay big money for such footage.

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Train Travel Tales #10 – The Pedicure

It is always nice to see a man who takes pride in his appearance. My fellow passenger handled the worn Pumice stone with delicacy and no little dexterity. The exfoliation of his feet began on the outskirts of Swindon.

Rubbed Nirvana was achieved as we rolled into Reading.

He admired his handiwork as far as Slough and then refitted the black knee length socks which had been so carefully removed twenty five minutes earlier. The socks clamped with elastic elation around his hairy calves.

His shoes needed a polish. But I didn’t feel in a position to tell him.

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Train Travel Tales 9 – The Rambler

He wore sturdy brogues and thick woollen socks. Nothing else.

On the table in front of him he had placed a goldfish bowl. A carp gazed at me with malevolence. It bore an uncanny resemblance to Elvis in The King’s final days.

Anger management issues I thought to myself.

“Crisp?” The Rambler proffered a packet of Smokey Bacon in a friendly manner. I politely declined. Best not to talk to him. I stared out of the window. We passed through a tunnel and his fleshy reflection loomed large in the pane. Crisp crumbs fell from his mouth, some of which landed into his pubic region. He picked a number of the larger pieces out and popped them  into his mouth.

“Turning nippy isn’t it?” he asked in his avuncular manner. The fish continued to stare.

The train came out of the tunnel and the guard announced that we were approaching Kemble Station.

“My Stop!” beamed The Rambler. He stood up, wiped the remaining crumbs away and reached up to the luggage rack to retrieve his luggage. A wind weathered scrotum dangled limply two inches from my eyes.

“Come on Lester, our stop!” The Rambler said as he picked up the goldfish bowl. He smiled at me as he walked toward the door. I noticed the imprint of the seat lining on his buttocks. The left cheek would benefit from a good quality emollient cream.

I put down my chicken salsa wrap, my appetite somewhat abated.

I doubt if Celia Johnson had experienced this in Brief Encounter.

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